tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336643719537144495.post6414365036846843502..comments2023-11-27T16:58:56.996-08:00Comments on Off and On: The Alaska Parkinson's Rag: Masterparkie Theater : Strange FestinationPeter Dunlap-Shohlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06286710554254177150noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336643719537144495.post-79299493838046102142010-02-28T09:06:59.988-08:002010-02-28T09:06:59.988-08:00That's beautiful, Parkybill. It brought tears ...That's beautiful, Parkybill. It brought tears to my pedal extremeties. Believe me,I've shuffled a mile in your shoes! <br /><br />You probably know this already, but if you have a reliable confederate like your wife around, she can help by <a href="http://offandonakpdrag.blogspot.com/2009/08/give-me-toe-parkinsons-pas-de-deux.html" rel="nofollow">throwing a toe</a>. Then you can write an ode to her feet instead of yours! <br /><br />Thanks for the poetic posting,<br /><br />PetePeter Dunlap-Shohlhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06286710554254177150noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336643719537144495.post-35307124566354401642010-02-28T08:38:26.528-08:002010-02-28T08:38:26.528-08:00Have you ever seen my poem, "Ode to a Frozen ...Have you ever seen my poem, "Ode to a Frozen Foot"?<br /><br />As I sit down to write this, I am feeling pretty good. <br />Having had PD for 10 years, I feel better than I should. <br />The stiffness and the slowness are well handled I confess <br />All thanks to Levodopa and that thing called DBS.<br /><br />I don’t have dyskinesia and I have no trouble dressing. <br />I’m grateful every day and thank God for every blessing. <br />I work at home more oft than not, in that way I’m in luck! <br />There’s just one thing to gripe about — the way my feet get stuck!<br /><br />At lunchtime Gail and I go to the store to browse the deli <br />To get some ribs or chicken or something else to fill my belly. <br />She parks the car and we get out and I hobble towards the store. <br />My feet freeze to the ground as I get close to the door.<br /><br />I look down at my shoes and they’re stuck there on the floor. <br />"What are you sissies scared about, it’s just a stupid door?" <br />My brain sends down a signal to my hesitating feet. <br />"Come on, you lazy tootsies, let’s go get something to eat!"<br /><br />I think they are embarrassed as they turn loose of the floor <br />And they make their cautious way and proceed right through the door. <br />And now our goal’s is nearer as I hobble down the aisle <br />"I hope they have some meatloaf," I say with a hungry smile.<br /><br />We’re making decent progress as we get close to the food. <br />I can almost taste the mac and cheese when... BAM! My feet are glued. <br />"So what’s the problem NOW?" I ask the feet I walk upon. <br />"The pattern on the floor has changed. It scares us," they respond.<br /><br />I roll my eyes and start to rock to free my frozen feet. <br />My wife holds out her hand to help. (She loves me, ain’t she sweet?) <br />My feet, at last, break free from their invisible detention. <br />I hobble to the counter and make clear my lunch intention.<br /><br />With food in hand we make our way to the checkout for to pay. <br />I’d like to take our food and go, my feet decide to stay. <br />"I’ve really had it with you guys," I say through gritted teeth. <br />"But there’s a RUG there on the floor," they whisper from beneath.<br /><br />With mental calculations that would make an Einstein strain <br />My legs receive commands from my confused, beleagured brain. <br />"YOU’VE NEVER SEEN A RUG BEFORE?" My brain begins to shout. <br />"IT’S JUST A STUPID RUG, YOU DOLTS! STEP OVER, AND GET OUT!"<br /><br />My feet may be reluctant, but they know my brain’s the boss. <br />They free themselves and step into the street so we can cross. <br />Gail, she walks behind me ever ready to assist <br />To gently jab me in the butt if my feet again resist.<br /><br />We’re almost to the car when the rain begins to fall. <br />It’s not a gentle shower, it’s a sudden summer squall. <br />I’m getting soaked, I cannot move, I’m frozen to the spot. <br />I look down at my soggy feet, I whisper "thanks a lot!"<br /><br />Gail runs on ahead so she can bring the car around. <br />She opens up the door and I get in without a sound. <br />I’m wet, I’m miffed, my shirt is soaked, my feet squish in my shoes. <br />I’ll say this about Parkinson’s. It always does amuse.ParkyBillhttp://parkinsondiary.comnoreply@blogger.com